


Mark and the Rockstar

by storiesinthedark



Series: Fics from Fandoms of Long Ago [4]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Drug Abuse, Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-07
Updated: 2007-09-07
Packaged: 2019-01-22 06:39:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12475672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesinthedark/pseuds/storiesinthedark
Summary: The stage is set for a fairytale. Roger, the handsome frontman of 'The Well Hungarians' gets caught up with an alluring maiden who leaves him with a horrible curse. But, after she has left, it is up to Roger to break the curse.





	Mark and the Rockstar

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted as part of the Rent Fic Challenge community on Livejournal. Original post date September 7, 2007.

Once upon a time, in a nightclub far away there was a young and handsome rock star that dreamed of one day becoming famous. Even though fame was the long-term goal, he was content with music. He absolutely loved it. His name was Roger Davis.

As Roger looked out over the large crowd that had gathered to see ‘The Well Hungarians’, the beautiful green eyes of the alluring redhead at the corner table increasingly distracted him. She had been making flirtatious eye contact with him since they had started the second set. 

Once they had finished the last set, Roger walked over to the table, pulled up a chair and lit a cigarette. “So…what did you think?” 

“Well,” She began. “I think that the music was amazing, but that frontman was even more amazing.” She giggled.

Roger blushed slightly and took a drag of the cigarette. “Yea…well…thanks….I’m Roger, by the way. Roger Davis.”

“April.” She responded, her eyes piercing into him. 

“Umm…well…would you like to grab something to eat?” 

“Sure…” 

The two left the club and headed out to get something to eat. 

“So…” Roger began after he had ordered a cheeseburger with fries. “…Are you from around here?”

“I guess you could say that…” She looked rather pre-occupied.

“Something wrong?” 

“No…come with me. I want to show you something.” She said it half out of impulse, half out of need. 

“But what about the food? I’m starving.” Roger whined.

“We’ll get some later.” The alluring red-haired girl grabbed hold of Roger’s calloused, dry hand and began pulling him toward the door. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…they were gone, leaving the little diner behind them in the black night.

Down a dark, damp alleyway she led the two of them. A man standing in a black trench coat stood against the wall of the camera shop that helped create the alley. He appeared to have been waiting for the two of them. 

“Do you have it?” She whispered to the dark figure.

“Two-hundred dollars.” He responded producing two small square plastic bags with a white powder inside. 

“Thanks.” She took the bags, grabbed hold of Roger’s hand once again and began walking back up the alley. 

About halfway from the top of the alley, she stopped walking. “Here.” She thrust the bag into Roger’s hands. “Ever done this before?”

Roger looked confused but curious. “No…” 

“Really…a rock star like yourself has never…” She laughed to herself. “You’re in for something then.”

The two continued in this fashion for a few years. It was a life Roger had never dreamed of, it was a life, however, that he was happy with for the moment. That was until he found her…dead.

The lipstick smeared across the mirror that fateful night in the bathroom read, “We have AIDS”. A pool of red that flooded the floor accompanied it. When Roger found April, he dropped to the floor in tears. He searched through the bloody bathwater and once he found her body, he clutched it tightly, refusing to believe that she had actually taken her own life.

She had left him physically and she had left him with a horrible curse. It was a curse of disease and heartbreak and addiction. But, if Roger could learn to love another, the curse would be broken for he would have learned to love himself as well. 

He lived alone after that. For the next few months, Roger Davis was not the rock star he had always planned to be. He was a horrible beast who would not let anyone into his life. 

 

***

Mark looked up at the large staircase that led the way up to the third floor. A rush of terror fell over him. What was he about to do? He swallowed hard, breathed deep and began climbing the stairs that would soon lead to his fate. 

He looked at the big metal door and carefully began to knock. Thud, thud, the door swung open as if by some unnatural force. Mark looked around at the old, dirty loft. ‘My dad arranged for me to live here?’ Mark winced at the very thought that this was where he was to spend the next part of his life. 

“Hello!” He called into the dimly lit room, but no answer returned, only the echo of his own voice. He breathed deeply once again and walked across the old, dusty wooden floor dragging what he had of luggage with him. He set his belongings down and took a seat in an old ragged chair in an attempt to take in his surroundings.He closed his eyes and reopened them slowly.

Appearing in front of his newly re-opened eyes was a dark figure in an old leather coat. His eyes focused on Mark, his stare piercing. Mark looked back hypnotized by this dark figure’s green-eyed stare. “Mark?” The figure questioned. 

“Yes.” The response was quiet and intimidated. He diverted his eyes from the hypnotizing stare of the dark figure for a moment and soon the figure was gone. 

“Hello!” Mark screamed again. “Who are you?” 

“Roger.” The voice was loud and harsh. 

With a short and sweet answer, Mark began looking around the open space that he was going to occupy. He attention was soon drawn to a small plastic bag on the table that appeared to have a residue of white powder. As he reached for the bag, the dark figure once again appeared, furious. 

“What are you doing?!” He roared. 

“I…I…I was just look-looking around and was curious…” Mark managed to stutter out. 

“Don’t touch things that are not yours!” Roger roared once again and as per usual vanished in the darkness. 

Terrified, Mark sat back in the chair. He clutched his knees tightly to his chest and tried to relax into a state of comfort. But, that state of comfort never came. Nor did it come the next day, or the next week or even the next month. 

Mark lived in what could be described as a bubble for nearly two months. He didn’t touch things that weren’t his, and he rarely ventured outside of his room. He rarely saw Roger and even though Mark longed to venture deep into the unknown city that lay before him, he refrained and closed himself off from the rest of the world. He built a world of him, and the fear that Roger evoked inside of himself.He was trapped. 

Caught in this web of fear, Mark struggled and Roger could see Mark’s turmoil. It had been two months he had spoken to Mark and as Roger decided to approach the scrawny blonde haired boy, he suppressed the emotions that would occasionally creep out and attack the first victim they saw. 

It was a foggy Thursday in the city and with the lights dimly lit in the loft, Roger approached Mark, his thin but semi-muscular build and leather jacket making him appear as a threat once again. 

“You want to see the city?” Roger began slowly and calmly. 

Mark looked back at him, confusion and awe in his eyes. “Yes…I would love to see the city…” 

“Then come on…” Roger said in a bit of a growl and he headed toward the door of the loft.Mark followed quickly in toe. 

Once they hit the bottom of the landing, Mark looked out into the city. He looked at Roger. “Why don’t you go out much?”

Roger looked back at Mark, his eyes pinning Mark to the building behind him. “Never mind…” Mark attempted to dismiss his concern at all in the matter. He looked toward the ground. 

Roger continued to walk down the street, Mark following not so closely behind. He was amazed at seeing the city in this new light. With Mark distracted by the city it was no surprise that when Roger stopped, he walked right into the back of him. “Stay here,” Roger commanded Mark. 

Mark shook his head in acknowledgment and fear. He stood outside the building still staring around in awe, when Roger emerged from the building Mark was standing in front of.

“Here.” Roger thrust the plastic bag into Mark’s hands. 

“What is this for?” Mark was now really confused. He couldn’t explain it, first Roger was mean and hard-hearted and now he was getting gifts from him. 

“Just open the damn thing!” Roger stared at him. 

Mark opened the bag and removed from it a camera…an old-fashioned video camera. He stared back at Roger. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. Now you can film what you’re seeing.” Roger sounded pleased with his idea. “Now come on, we don’t have too much longer before I have to be back.” 

Mark didn’t question and followed Roger on the rest of his tour through the city. It didn’t take Mark long to realize that he didn’t actually want to be a lawyer like his father wanted him to be, he wanted to be a filmmaker. 

They returned to the loft and Roger vanished as per usual. It was another week more before Roger appeared again. “Why did you come here?” He was being calm and normal…or about as normal as Roger could be. 

“I came here because my father wants me to be a lawyer and he thinks that if I spend some time in the city I’ll figure out what kind of lawyer I want to be…but…”

“But, what?” Roger urged him on. 

“But…I don’t want to be a lawyer…I want to be a filmmaker…thanks to you…”Mark sounded very pleased with himself. He was proud and confident that this was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life. He was sure of it. 

Roger looked back at him with a softness that hadn’t been seen in his eyes for years. “Well…good for you…” The cynicism was evident. He scoffed a moment, unnoticed by Mark and soon vanished again. 

Mark had learned in the few months that he had lived there that Roger’s vanishing act was very common. It was more common than the fact that they lived with almost completely nothing. He had instilled it in himself that Roger really didn’t care if Mark was there or not. 

However, it just so happen that one night, as Mark lie awake on his mattress he caught sight of Roger leaving the loft. He decided to follow. 

Twists and turns, down back alleys, and through old run down building, Mark followed Roger, lingering just enough behind him to not actually be noticed. As Roger stopped to talk to someone, Mark held behind in the shadows. Roger’s gruesome habit and past unfolding before his eyes. He put it to the back of his mind and walked by himself back to the loft, where he waited for Roger to reappear. 

It was close to 4:30 AM when Roger reappeared in the loft. He walked slowly and carefully as to not make any noise and disturb Mark, who appeared to be sleeping. 

“Roger.” Mark began innocently enough. “Where were you?” 

“Nowhere!” Roger roared. He turned; ready to pounce on Mark for questioning him. 

“Yes…you were.” Mark, for the first time, was going to confront someone. “I saw you, Roger. What were you doing?”

“NOTHING! I TOLD YOU TO STAY OUT OF MY BUSINESS! GET OUT!” Roger stared and lunged toward Mark. 

Mark, now terrified, inched his way toward the door. He quickly opened it and escaped, just as the glass Roger had thrown shattered against the wall. Mark left Roger completely alone and headed out toward the big unknown city. 

Roger quickly calmed down from his fit of rage. He realized what he had just done. He sat down in one of the ragged old chairs that sat in the common living space of the room and breathed deeply. Mark’s camera, sat on the small coffee table before him. Roger picked it up and watched the footage Mark had shot. He watched footage of himself and the city. At the very end of the reel was a small commentary from Mark. 

“I love living here. It’s so cool. I just wish my roommate liked me a little bit more. I feel as if I am nothing but a nuisance to him. He’s a little strange, I know something’s wrong with him. I wish I could figure it out.”

Roger watched the footage and for the first time in nearly three years, tears came to his eyes. ‘I’ll find him. I need to find him.’ But then the urge came back and Roger retreated to his state of wanting. 

It was the simple need for Mark, that Roger put himself through the pain of withdrawal. He resisted his urges, or he at least tried and he searched for Mark. Roger now had two objectives. One, to gain back what he had lost with April…his life. And two, to find Mark, the caring soul that Roger suddenly felt a longing for.

Three months went by and still, Roger had no sign of Mark. The day was bleak and cold as Roger passed the store he had bought Mark’s camera from. On an impulse, he walked in and found none other than Mark working behind the counter. 

“Mark!” Roger screamed. Mark ignored the call. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? You expect me to come back after nearly dying.” Mark’s words were harsh and bitter. He walked out from behind the counter and began restocking shelves. 

“I’m…I’m…I’m sorry. There I said it. Please come back.” Roger was now pleading with Mark. 

“Why? So, you can throw another glass at me and put me back on the street?”

“No. Because I stopped. Well, I’m trying. I…I…don’t know what it is Mark, but something about you that just doesn’t make me want to do it anymore. But, I…I…can’t…do this alone. I love you, Mark.”

Mark stared at the pleading man before him. He was no longer the beastly, brutal man he had been three months ago; Mark could see it in his eyes.

“Alright…I love you too Roger…However, I have to finish stocking these shelves. I see you back at home.” 

Roger smiled, the first time since April had died, and headed back to the loft.

Mark finished his job and headed back to the loft, hoping that Roger was sincere in his words. Spending the months in the loft with Roger, Mark had fallen in love with him. He returned to find Roger waiting like an impatient child at Christmas for his return. Roger embraced Mark. This felt right, for both of them. 

“I love you,” Roger whispered in Mark’s ear. The curse had been broken…for the moment at least. 

And they lived happily ever after…sort of…for now that is…


End file.
